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Today yours truly saw a great many festively fettled furkids in the East Village. The above fellow garnered a great deal of attention and commentary. This is of course because he is cute as hell.

I like cute. Cute is good. But I have a rather idiosyncratic sense of what constitutes awesome— and this is what I saw on Stuyvesant Place.

His name is Xerxes.

I was a mite bit confused by the name: Xerxes. For those of you who are not in the know (and you can thank a very enthusiastic college professor for this), Xerxes was a ruler of Persia.

Persia is allotted its very own breed. They are called (imaginatively enough) Persians and are quite hairy. As you can see Xerxes is not so encumbered. Such are the occasional absurdities which remind me why I (still) live in this town. Not only is Xerxes a rescue cat, but per his person he loves to strut his stuff alongside dogs. And today he did just that at a local Halloween parade. Wait, that sounds familiar.

The New York Shitty Checklist to the Upcoming Ghostbusters Apocalypse:

Dogs and cats living together: Check. It is actually much worse. There was a hairless pussy in a bee suit marching alongside dogs. In a parade.

Where is Bill Murray when you need him?

*What seems to have been and is lost on a great many people here is Doctor Spencer actually bothered to go to Guinea and help Ebola patients. Before we tender judgement (about how/where Mr. Spencer went) maybe we should ask ourselves the following question:

We’ve all seen and traversed them: endless flyers and cards soliciting one kind of service or another gracing our sidewalks, foyers, doorways and even intercom systems. Speaking for myself, car services and real estate agents seem to be the worst offenders— but there’s plenty more blame to go around. Thus we, as citizens, post flyers stating we do not want these tree-killers gracing our property. After all, if we wanted or required these services we would undoubtedly find them of our own accord. This is why god created the Internet.

Most of the “no flyer” signs I see on any given day are the standard boiler plate variety. I need not explore them here because quite frankly they’re not very interesting. The manner in which the above residence has approached this problem, however, is another matter altogether. Behold the genius for yourselves, gentle readers.

You can always leave it to our friends in Bedford Stuyvesant to do something with style. Well done, 387 Classon! Let this be an inspiration to us all…